Thursday, May 23, 2013

Not in my name

Not in my name.

It’s a phrase that has been said a fair few times over the past 24 hours since the horrible events at Woolwich. British Muslims have said it repeatedly on Twitter as has the Muslim Council of Britain in an official statement all denouncing the brutal and barbarous cold-blooded murder of a soldier on our streets.

Not in my name.

It’s a powerful phrase but one that need not be said. It’s like apologising when somebody else bumps into you, an all too British quality. There are few of us who are short-sighted enough to believe that the evil actions of two deluded murderers are representative of an entire group of people.

Few – but sadly not none.

It was a truly callous act, and a Jihadist one solely designed to anger, to provoke, to spread fear. And with the blue touch-paper lit, the old familiar drone begins anew.

“Deport them all” – as though there is some mythical country called Islam that we can ship them out to.

“Bring back the death penalty” – because that’s proven to be such a deterrent elsewhere around the world, hasn’t it? And it’ll undoubtedly prove especially effective against Jihadists who are willing to die for a cause.

But it is on occasion reassuring to know that over this white noise – this cacophony of bile – the voices of sense can be heard, and in growing numbers. People calling for calm and urging restraint and tolerance in these testing times. People who can see this vile act for what it is - and not fall into exactly the trap that those who carried it out want us to fall victim to.

Not in my name.

But we need not have worried anyway - it’s all okay – we’re all saved - Under cover of nightfall emerge a horde of brave patriots, their faces covered - nothing but bloody vengeance on their minds.

The police – who you’d think had enough on their plate, what with trying to investigate a vicious murder – have to contend with having missiles thrown at them.

Mosques are attacked as though people believe they’re automated terrorist machines, like the generators in the eighties arcade game Gauntlet spewing out a torrent of suicide bombers armed with scimitars yelling “Allahu Akbar”.

They are the English Defence League, but the values they promote – small-mindedness, hatred and bigotry - are not part of an England that I recognise – and nor are they values that I would ever wish to defend.